


Rose Petals

by CultureisDarkBeer



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 23:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17928638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CultureisDarkBeer/pseuds/CultureisDarkBeer
Summary: Short and Clean but Mulder may just melt your heart. He’s caught in a moment of philosophical contemplation andhe’s playing in sand again.





	Rose Petals

**Author's Note:**

> MS31X129 inspired me to write this when she challenged me that Mulder thought of having a family life like Scully did from time to time and I didn't see it, but being of an open mind I wrote this so I could see through the eyes of Mulder.... possibilities. I humbly concede she was right. 
> 
> You may notice in your fics a woman named Michelle in your comments section. She doesn't have a psued, but she wrote all the poetic words. She deserves your kudos to encourage her to write more. Thank you for reading.

Baby blue fragments fluttered in the sand catching Mulder's eye. A white flower petal enrobed in pastel blue fringe. Scattered among the many footprints were more windblown remnants of a bridal bouquet.  He picked up a single petal and caressed the soft velvety texture.

As he surveyed the sand, studying it with the intensity of an anthropologist searching for clues to the origin and function of some artifact, questions of a profiler peppered his mind. Did the bride and possibly groom see the simple beauty of this one petal or did they just pick the bouquet that matched their color scheme? Perhaps too caught up in the excitement of their day to care? Are they planning a life together of family, home, travels and all the other possibilities that are promised at the altar? What’s their life behind closed doors? After the excitement settles down will their happiness fade like the sun that was quickly sinking into the sea?  

“I have a piece of your wedding,” he thought as he redirected his mind to the small treasure he held gently between his fingers.

Mulder considered the incongruity of this petal. In the bride’s nervous grasp, it symbolized new beginnings, fidelity and hope of a lifetime of happiness. In his reverent possession, it symbolized a journey that never started, loneliness and possibly a loss of faith. Would there ever be a day he had a place to return to with a wife, children? A reluctant tear gathered in his right eye considering the disregarded paths of his past. The petals that littered the beach poignantly represented the dreams of a child slowly blowing away. One by one, as the years ticked by, they abandoned him as those petals abandoned their stems.

The tear failed to fall, stolen by the wind. Why had these desires eluded him? He held his single petal delicately and didn’t let go, like a truth it might embody, placing it carefully in his pocket. Perhaps, like a captured wedding bouquet, it might restore his faith and bring him the fortune necessary to have both a quest and a home.

“Mulder!” His name cutting through the moment like a stiletto through an animal carcass.

“Over here,” he hollered back.  

“Did you find anything?” Scully asked gasping for breath from the jog across the dunes to join him.

“No,” he returned lifting his voice above the windy beach. “He probably tossed the gun between the slats of the boardwalk.”

Scully gave the shoreline a haphazard once over. “Must have been a wedding here earlier today.”

“Yeah,” Mulder said watching her hair lift from the ocean breeze and tickle the purplish hues of dusk.

“I’m going to follow up with the detective, maybe he’s located it. Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” he said squinting from the rays of sun using its last bit of color to paint the horizon. She paused and he knew she was waiting for an explanation for his tilted head and ostentatious gaze. “You ever consider getting married Scully?”

The question clearly threw her- observing her eyes bulge slightly, her chin retreat, and her back stiffen. He chuckled as he replayed his question in his head. “I meant in general.”

“Oh.” She relaxed, but did he see a glimmer of disappointment? “I don’t know, I guess it crosses my mind. Does it ever cross yours?”   

“Never,” he mumbled under his breath and refocused, taking long strides away from her and towards the shoreline. “Hey Scully, look over here. I think low tide uncovered our murder weapon.” He bent to retrieve it and as Scully approached a flash of her in a beautiful white gown draped in satin and lace almost sent him to his knees. Maybe time hadn’t been so cruel as to wash all the grains of his hourglass out to sea after all.


End file.
